Broken Promises
by SilverLunarStar
Summary: Chapter 4! In order to protect their baby boy, the Doctor and Rose drop him off at a twenty-four-hour daycare in Cardiff circa 1984, thinking it only a temporary measure, that they'll be back before he knows it. Things go very wrong. Also a mini-Human Nature/Family of Blood rewrite. Doctor/Rose, Jack/Ianto.
1. Matharthicketealiantotyler

**Broken Promises**

_By: SilverLunarStar_

_**Chapter One: Matharthicketealiantotyler**_

* * *

**Disclaimer throughout Story:** Doctor Who _and_ Torchwood_ are property of BBC. _

**Author's Note:** _This story sprung forth thanks to a prompt for the Doctor/Rose Fix Spring Fling Fixathon made by mahmfic at livejournal. Her prompt was:_ Ianto is actually Rose and the Doctor's child_. This prompt caught me hook, line, and sinker as Manni the Muse fished it in._

* * *

"Rose, get down! Don't look back!" the Doctor shouted.

Rose Tyler had absolutely no intention of looking back. As soon as they crossed the TARDIS's threshold, she continued dashing forth within the corridors. Finding their room to be the first one, she mentally thanked the TARDIS and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that their precious cargo was still out like a light. Returning to the console room, she saw the Doctor dashing around frantically.

Catching sight of her and noting all was well (well, not everything, obviously), he ordered, "Come and hold this."

Knowing something was wrong; she let his tone go and did as he asked. "What's going on?" What was meant to be a quick pit stop at the banana grove quickly became a marathon of running for their lives. No difference there, but the Time Lord seemed especially anxious.

Pushing and pulling a few more buttons and levers, he removed one of the grills covering the storage section, yanking a few metal disks out. He looked at them and took a shuddering breath.

"Doctor, who was chasing after us?" Rose demanded.

"Who _is_ chasing after us, Rose," he corrected grimly. "They're creatures that go by 'The Family'. Normally a peaceful lot, but these seem to have gone rogue. If they catch us, they'll suck me dry of regenerations and you and the TARDIS the time vortex. We're going to have to hide. All three of us."

Rose gapped. "How can they be following us in the _time vortex_?"

"They seem to have gotten hold of some vortex manipulators." He set the disks down on the console.

"Okay." She breathed, trying to remain calm. "Where are we going then? To Jack? Maybe he'll have-"

He shook his head fervently. "If we lead them to Jack and they get hold of him, who knows what disasters could ensue. Anyway, it's more than that. We're going to have to become fully human." He flicked a lever and a metal helmet was lowered. Pressing several other buttons, two fob watches popped out; at least, Rose assumed they were fob watches, but she doubted as she saw their unique engravings. "Rose, do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"With Math-"

"Of course! You know that."

"We're going to have to leave him somewhere while we hide," he said calmly, feeling anything but.

"Are you crazy? If you think I'm going to leave-"

"Rose." He put his hands on her shoulders. "If there was any other way, do you think I wouldn't take it? We can't make him human with us. If he undergoes the only method I have to change us… He wouldn't survive; he's too young to regenerate – we're still not sure whether he _can_. And we can't bring him with us or else they'll find us and we won't have any means to protect him with. The conversion- it alters our memories as well; we'll think we're fully human. Even if one of us were to stay with him…"

"There has to be another way!" Tears were flowing down her cheeks. "I can't-" She sobbed.

He didn't even try to stop his own silent tears from flowing down. His brain was rapidly going through other ways, but no alternative came forth. "I promise Rose, it's just for three months," her breath hitched, "we'll drop him off somewhere safe. Not with Jack, but maybe someplace in Cardiff… The Rift might be enough to throw them off. First though…" He grabbed the thin, metal disks he first took out.

Rose was trying to pull herself together. Not even when she was first separated from her mother had she broken down like this, but this was a completely different matter altogether. She wondered if this is how her mother felt when she was first trapped on the other side of the void. At least she knew she'd be safe, as safe as she could be with the Doctor, and she knew her mother would be just fine with the alternate version of her dad. Her baby on the other hand… "Why three months?"

"These creatures are like mayflies; in three month's time they'll die naturally, as they were meant to. That's why they're so desperate to get to us. They could live forever if they took our energy."

She wiped her tears with her sleeves as she nodded and started paying attention to what he was doing. "What are those?"

"They're time bombs of sorts. Well, more like time stunners, if one could actually stun time, which of course, you can't, but… They're the only ones left in existence. During the Time War, our TARDIS's had these slots-" he pointed to an area of the console and she could swear she'd never seen that part before, even with her first Doctor, "to dispense them into the vortex. There were times Daleks had happened upon some craft with the ability to follow us into it. The stunners disrupt the flow; throw anyone who might be following off us, basically stunning them for a short while. I'm going to try and throw the Family off our trail while we take Matharthicketealianto someplace safe. You should go…go get him ready."

Feeling his mood darken further than before, she felt the need to stay, just a little longer, but she also knew time was of the essence. She just couldn't help herself, though. "What about those?" she asked, gesturing at the fob watches.

"These will keep our true selves, our memories, within them until three months have passed." Before she could ask any more questions, he pleaded, "Rose, just trust me. Please."

She bit her tongue and nodded. Placing a kiss on his lips, she headed back to their room.

Once she left, he drove through the vortex a bit more and, once he knew he had a good shot, he popped the first disk in. Bingo. Looked like he hadn't lost his touch, he thought cynically. Now inputting the coordinates for the time and place he was aiming for, he inserted another disk. Knowing they'd be disoriented, especially without the safety of a capsule thanks to the manipulators, he threw the last disk in before making sure they landed right when and where he wanted them to. Checking the monitor, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw they hadn't been followed. They'd be safe for an hour, tops. Turning around as he heard soft cooing, his eyes softened and his hearts broke as he took in the sight of his Rose with a diaper bag in one hand and their baby boy in the other.

"I found us a daycare in Cardiff, circa 1984. They take care of babies while parents go on trips. Bit unfair if you ask me; they miss out on all that traveling! Mind you, it can be dangerous…" he added when he realized the reason why they were leaving him here in the first place. Leaving their baby in a childcare facility, talk about the height of domesticity! (He simply ignored the fact that his domestics scale had stretched further and further with his pink and yellow half-human.)

"Hello! Welcome to Thesa's Day and Night Center. Which services were you interested in today?" a woman at the desk greeted them cheerfully.

"Hi, um, my…wife and I were looking at your twenty-four hour services. You see, we're travelers and while our…employer usually allows us to bring our bundle of joy with us, we're headed to…Africa next and he's much too young to take all the necessary vaccinations, so we wanted to leave him with a family friend but…he's out of the country right now and I said to Rose, I said, 'Rose, never you mind. I heard of this fantastic place that has just what we need'. Brilliant reviews you have, had, will have." He grinned.

Rose would have tried her best not to hide behind her baby under any other circumstances, embarrassed by the Doctor's blatant lies. As it was, she was already suffering from separation anxiety so she simply continued to clutch their child. Thankfully, the girl was trying too hard to catch any word from his fast speech and didn't notice his pauses.

"Of course, sir. Even though we just opened, I promise you, you and your wife have nothing to fear. Our whole staff has had thorough background checks and has been fully trained to handle all sorts of situations in order to care for the children."

"Oh, I've no doubt you'll eventually expand," he assured.

"Who knows, maybe we will!" She handed him a packet to fill out and he thanked her.

Noticing the Doctor's fake enthusiasm dim at the sight of paperwork, she handed Matharthicketealianto to him. Filling out the basic information with pseudonyms and numbers that wouldn't exist for quite some time, she paused at a particular question. "Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose?" He didn't rip his gaze from their son's blue eyes, warmer than his ninth self's ones, about the same hue as his eighth carnation, as they stared intensely at one another.

"How long are we leaving him here for?" she asked softly.

He broke eye contact, exhaling sharply, this time staring into Rose's worried honey eyes. They should never hold that look, yet, because of his carelessness, he put that look there.

"It's not your fault," she said softly, but fiercely.

He pressed his lips together, knowing he'd argue in vain. That was Rose; knew just what he was thinking, she did, without being properly telepathic herself and always knowing what to say. "What's a believable gap between here and Africa and back?" he asked rhetorically, already figuring it out in his head. "Two we-? No, make it sixteen days from now."

"Sixteen?" Rose inhaled sharply.

"That's just for show, I promise. Once our three months are up, we'll come back in twenty-four hours and simply say we couldn't bear to leave Matharthicketealianto alone and asked our employer to choose someone else."

"But we'll have to, won't we? Bear it, I mean."

"There's no guarantee we'll even remember one another, Rose," he told her sadly.

"Oh, and that just makes it all better! We're going to change our whole bilgy, forget ourselves, forget _each other_, _and_ forget _Ianto_!" she hissed, tears springing from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said solemnly.

She shook her head a millisecond behind his apology. "No, I'm sorry. _This isn't your fault_, you hear me? Now, let me just finish filling this out so we can head back to the TARDIS, hide, and in three months our time, we'll come back for him the," she checked today's date, "third of August and act like clingy parents."

"We _are_ clingy parents," he teased lightly, wondering if she was trying to convince him he wasn't to blame or herself.

"Gotta enjoy it while we still can, yeah?" With that, she finished filling the paperwork.

Though the girl raised her brow at a few answers, 'Who's allergic to aspirin?' everything seemed to be in order. They even paid fully in advance! Most parents paid half the day of the drop off and half when they picked their child up. She smiled as she realized they'd be home in time for his birthday, sixteen days from today. Wishing them a safe trip, Silvia handed the baby to Denise Jones.

"Come and meet your friends Ianto Smith."

Baby Ianto took one look at her and, as if in pain, cried out.

* * *

The Doctor and Rose made their way to the TARDIS with heavy hearts, hands clasped together tightly. Upon entering, their ship tried her best to comfort her Thief and Wolf, but nothing could fill the wide gap.

Seeing Rose look at the door longingly, he condemned himself all the more for what they were about to endure. Unfortunately, they couldn't dawdle for long as the TARDIS shuddered in warning. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand so he could take them back into the vortex before the Family found them in this time and place, then he set random coordinates, letting the TARDIS take care of the rest. "Rose." Curled on the jump seat, he waited until she looked up at him to explain. "The procedure we're about to go through is anything but pleasant. It's going to hurt and, as much as I wish with all my hearts I could stop causing you so much pain, if they so much as smell a trace of what we are, we're as good as dead."

"Can't we just get rid of them" Rose's usual empathic side gave way to her hurt, mother instincts that just wanted her child back at all costs.

"I… I could," he answered reluctantly, the 'if you want me to' ran silently. He could and would, if Rose asked him to. It was the first thing he had thought of, honestly, but he had enough blood on his hands. When he regenerated into his current self, while he still held the darkness and guilty inside, he'd also become a lighter, bouncier, _prettier_ man for her. For Rose, and now for his son, he'd do anything and that made him the most dangerous man in existence. He watched Rose fight internally and saw her deflate.

"No," she shook her head. "I'd never ask you to do that. If you're sure this is the only way then let's do it." She held her head high.

That was his Rose, always thinking of others, especially him. He didn't deserve her, but he'd never be able to let her go. He briefly wondered whether he should've just gotten rid of them without Rose's knowledge, but there was little he could hide from her anymore. "This is the Chameleon Arch and these," he held up the fob watches as he reiterated his previous explanation, "are where our true selves, our memories, will be hidden. While we're hiding, we'll only be vaguely aware of them and in three months we're going to be overwhelmed by an explicable urge to open them. Once we do, we'll be back to our proper selves. I don't know where we'll end up; I'm letting the old girl take care of that. We'll land first, then you'll go first so I can make sure nothing goes wrong." He winced at her worried look.

"What do you mean?" She was more than a little wary and still emotional from basically abandoning their child with strangers, even if for him it'd be no more than a full Earth day.

"This equipment was meant for Time Lords. The TARDIS provided an extra watch, so I assume she thinks it's safe enough, but there's no real way to know beforehand."

She breathed out. "Well, only one way to find out, yeah?" she said with fake enthusiasm, trying not to express her worries and letting her adventurous side come forth. When this was all over, she was going to convince the Doctor to take the three of them on vacation, though she was certain he wouldn't need much convincing this time around.

"That's the spirit!" He plastered on a phony smile as he hooked everything in. He gave her a deep kiss and an encouraging smile before starting the process. It was wiped clean as she began to scream.

* * *

_This is the first time in a while Manni has spat out a whole story in such a short amount of time. I was hoping to never again post an in-progress story that I hadn't finished, but ideas are brimming and I don't think it will be too long._

_Thanks for reading!_

_~*Eli_


	2. Small World

**Broken Promises**

_By: SilverLunarStar_

_**Chapter Two: Small World**_

* * *

_A man's arms were wrapped around her, his long, nimble fingers spread across her large belly. He was singing a soft lullaby in a language she didn't understand, but it was the most soothing melody she'd ever heard._

"_Do you think mum's already had her baby?" she asked when he finished._

"_Probably. Time does move quicker in Pete's world than ours."_

"_I hope he or she was born healthy, like our baby will." She winced suddenly._

"_I'm sure they were; those Tyler genes are strong." He rubbed her soothingly._

"_Do you… do you really think we'll survive this?" She bit her lip, sorry she'd asked as soon as the words left her mouth. She hated doubting him, them, but after reading about Human-Gallifreyan births, she was afraid._

_Knowing what she was thinking about, the Doctor wished he hadn't let Rose near those books. The births that had been depicted in those books were from ancient times – and he did mean ancient, from before he'd been born. Technology on Earth in the 22__nd__ century was better than Gallifrey's had been at the time. Okay, maybe the 222__nd__ century, but point still stood. "You will," he assured her in a firm voice. "You both will. Like I said, Tyler genes are strong. Add to that your mother's Prentice ones and there's nothing you can't overcome. I'll make sure of it, I promise."_

_She turned around to face him and brought him down for a kiss, his hands automatically roaming her body. She let out an appreciative moan as he gently massaged an aching breast; she squeezed his bum in retaliation to his chuckle. Feeling a bit stronger and more awake, she pushed him onto his back so she could trail kisses down his chest until she reached the waistband of his pants where she then…_

* * *

Marion Jones awoke with a gasp, hands to her stomach, finding it flat. She looked around her small bed for evidence of another body, but found none. Of course she wouldn't, the very thought! She was a proper young lady of twenty-three who might as well already be called a spinster (which, in fact, she had). Taking out her journal, she wrote out her absurd dream (Tyler, Prentice, **pregnancy**, _a man in her bed_ – what would her mother think about such unholy dreams?) before getting ready for the day.

Marion had left her home in London after a terrible accident which had taken her mother and best friend, Michael Smith. With no ties left, she'd gathered what little money she had, packed her small collection of clothing in a trunk, and wandered about until she ran low on funds. She would then seek employment in a town to earn enough to keep going. She never stayed anywhere for long, but she was afraid she'd have to stay in Farringham longer than usual for she'd run considerably low on money. Thankfully, she'd found a kind bookshop owner who had an empty room above the moderate-sized shop and he allowed her to take residence during her stay. He was a very reasonable man and knew she wouldn't stay for long, just like he knew he really didn't need much help around the place. However, he took this as a chance to spend time with his family.

The blonde girl opened up shop and began organizing the books Mr. Cartwright had brought in. Mornings were always slow so she was confident she could have the books in order before anyone bothered to come in. Humming, she gathered as many books as she could and made her way to the back of the shop. Soon, her mind began to wander as she thought of the dreams she'd been having for the past couple of weeks. She wondered if this was her mind's way of dealing with the loss of her family, for she was never alone in her dreams. The man (who wasn't a man at all, but an _alien_), was always with her. Most of her dreams were about adventures the two had together, alien planets they traveled to and they even traveled in time. Imagine that! It was a great fantasy and she yearned for these dreams every night, but once morning came around and she wrote them down, she snapped herself back to reality. It wouldn't help to dwell on those dreams; they were fanciful stories, nothing more.

Climbing down, her hand absentmindedly reached into her dress' pocket as she caressed her father's old fob watch. Gathering more books, she carefully moved the ladder to the literature section before her mind began to wander again. Marion was so lost in her thoughts that, as she was climbing up the ladder to put the last few books away, she missed a step. She made a grab for the frame, but missed so she shut her eyes in anticipation of the pain.

There was none. She heard a sharp inhale by her ear, but she ignored it as she felt herself being blanketed by the warmth and comfort of the pliant chest behind her, arms wrapped securely around her, long fingers spread over her flat stomach… Marion squeaked and leaped away. Well, she would've, had there been any space. Instead, she simply stepped away, breaking the impromptu embrace. Turning around, she came face-to-face with a tall man with sparkling brown eyes. She felt her cheeks heat up as he smiled at her, somewhat shyly himself.

"Are you alright?" he asked, breaking the silence.

'His voice is all wrong,' came the fleeting thought. Pushing it aside, she answered, "I'm fine, thanks. Um…thank you for…" she gestured, trailing off. What it just her imagination or was he looking slightly flushed as well?

"Oh, it was no problem at all. I was just looking for a few history books, didn't see anyone up front so I came to explore. Saw you stumble and I couldn't allow you to fall, now could I?" His hesitant smile turned into a grin.

She couldn't help but grin back; before she could reply, however, the door's bell rang. 'Now why didn't I hear it earlier?' Her cheeks reddened further, knowing she'd lost herself in her whimsical thoughts.

"Marion, are you in here?" someone called out. "I have a few more books I'd like to add."

"I'm with the literature, Mr. Cartwright," she called out. "If you'll excuse me, sir-"

"John, John Smith," he cut her off.

She smiled. "If you'll excuse me Mr. Smith, I need to help my employer. The history section is on the southern wall, on the left."

"Of course. Thank you for your help Miss…" He looked at her eagerly.

"Jones, Marion Jones."

His smile brightened. "Thank you for your help Miss Jones. I'll be up front once I've made my selections."

"Take your time, sir. And thank you for the rescue." With that, she scurried to the front as Mr. Cartwright called out again.

The blonde zoned out as her employer started chattering about expanding the fiction section there were a lot of people interested in the fanciful stories new and upcoming authors were publishing, even if they wouldn't admit to it. She couldn't see the history section because of the bookshelves in the middle of the store, but she could faintly hear the rustling of the pages, the lifting and placing of the books as Joh- Mr. Smith chose his books meticulously.

Suddenly hearing footsteps approaching, she shook her head internally, picking out a few authors that sounded vaguely familiar.

"Mr. Smith!" Mr. Cartwright greeted cheerfully.

"Good morning Mr. Cartwright."

"Marion, this is John Smith; he's a new schoolteacher at Farringham School for Boys," the older man introduced.

"We just met a few minutes ago," John remarked. "Miss Jones helped me find the history section."

He nodded. "I'm surprised to see you in here. From what Rocastle's told me, you have the whole library in your rooms."

There was no mistaking the red spots on his cheeks this time. "Well, I already finished those…"

"You've been here all of three weeks!" His eyes widened. "I have a feeling I'm going to have a new favorite customer."

John smiled sheepishly. "Looks like." His eyes slid to Marion's before quickly averting his gaze.

Mr. Cartwright saw this and hid a smirk.

"Have you at least put the books back?" Marion's voice broke in. "At the library," she clarified when she saw his bafflement and knew he hadn't when he looked even more abashed.

"Farringham library has been an utter disaster since Seamus' demise, God rest his soul. It's as if the schoolteachers there weren't born and raised gentlemen themselves."

John reddened further, all the way to his ears.

"Oh!" Mr. Cartwright got a gleam in his eyes. He turned to Marion. "I'm going to call on Rocastle; he's the headmaster at the school," he explained to her, "and ask him to hire you as their new librarian."

"Tired of me already, Mr. Cartwright?" she asked, uncharacteristically cheekily.

"Now Marion, don't take it…" he trailed off as he noticed a small, mischievous grin; small, but mischievous nonetheless. 'Well, I'll be darned.' He chuckled before turning his attention back to their customer. "Mr. Smith, could you please inform Headmaster Rocastle that I'll be by later?"

Marion's jaw dropped, but was snapped out of her stunned state by John inquiring the total amount for his purchase.

"Of course." The schoolteacher agreed, smiling at the man as he paid for his new books. "Good day Mr. Cartwright, Miss Jones." His grin widened as he glanced at her one last time.

"Good day Mr. Smith," she whispered, holding a smile even at his retreating back.

"Maybe now you'll find a reason to stick around longer, aye Marion?" the shop owner teased.

"Mr. Cartwright!" she exclaimed. "I don't know the man at all."

"Ah, but perhaps you will get to know him once I've secured the job." He became serious. "My bookshop has done well the past few years, but I can't give you the salary you deserve. If the headmaster hires you, you'd make more than I could ever repay all your hard work for."

She smiled. "You know it's never been about the money, Mr. Cartwright. You've been so kind to me since I wandered into town with barely two pennies to scratch together. I'll never be able to repay that kindness."

"You can by allowing me to help."

She opened her mouth to say he'd helped her enough already, but a look from her employer kept her quiet. Instead, she smiled gratefully.

* * *

A couple of days later, Marion Jones was being given a small tour of the school for boys.

"As you can see Miss Jones, we are most definitely in dire need of a librarian," Headmaster Rocastle stated as he opened the library's door, giving her a peek at what she was getting herself into. "The boys would greatly benefit from using the library. However, considering its disastrous state, we haven't allowed any of them to use any books. The teachers have taken free reign, of course, since I know they eventually bring the books back. I am embarrassed to say they don't always leave them in their proper place." He cleared his throat, truly looking discomfited. It looked as if a bomb had gone off inside and the site had been abandoned so as not to dredge bad memories; books were scattered around, cobwebs decorated every corner, furniture was askew… "Now, I know you come with Cartwright's reference and I trust his judge of character. However, you are also new to, not only the school, but the town, and I like to evaluate my employees myself. I'll have one of the maids tidy and dust the place for you to begin organizing tomorrow morning, if it's convenient. "

"Thank you for the opportunity headmaster, tomorrow morning is fine. If no one's available to clean, I can do it as well," she offered.

The man looked scandalized. "I'm sure I can spare a few. This place has been ignored long enough." He finished giving her the tour of the school, before asking a maid by the name of Jenny to escort her out, letting her know she was to gather a couple of more maids to clean the library once she was done with her morning duties.

"Thank you Jenny." The blonde hurried off, eager to tell Mr. Cartwright the news.

Her employer was happy to hear she was 'on trial basis'. "Don't worry Marion. I know Rocastle can be a bit of a stick in the mud, but he's a fine man and a good judge of character himself; he'll see what a hard worker you are and I'll hardly see you once you have the library up and running!"

Marion smiled at his confidence in her. "Thank you Mr. Cartwright. About rent…" Another reason why she never complained about her small salary, besides the man's kindness at hiring her even though he really didn't need help, was that he was allowing her to board for free.

"I'll hear none of it." He shook his head, already knowing where she was going. "You'll still be working evenings and I know you stay up after hours at times." He eyed her sternly.

She huffed, but didn't argue, knowing it was a lost cause. Instead, she took the blessings that came in the form of a kind, jolly man and continued working, greeting a customer that had just entered.

* * *

True to the headmaster's word, the library was cleaner than the previous day. The cobwebs were gone and there was much less dust than before. There was still much to be done so Marion set to work. She fixed the desks, dusting them off once again, using three or four of them to pile the remaining books precariously high as she set to work on cleaning the bookcases. By the time she was halfway through, it was lunchtime. She wouldn't have noticed had the headmaster not sent Jenny with a tray of food.

"Thank you Jenny. Didn't realize how famished I was," she said as Jenny set the food down on the neared available surface.

"You're welcome Miss."

"Marion's just fine."

"Oh no Miss, I couldn't. What would the headmaster say?" The curly haired woman's jovial, round face contorted in shock.

She frowned. "How about when it's just the two of us? We're both employees of the school."

"But you-"

"Please Jenny?" she implored. She'd been working the entire time she'd been in Farringham that she hadn't really had time to socialize outside of customers (although technically speaking, she was still working) and, even though she never stayed in once place for long, she always made a friend or two.

Jenny looked at the blonde woman's benevolent features and smiled sincerely. "That sounds fine, Miss Marion." Her eyes twinkled.

The blonde grinned. 'Cheeky!'

Jenny chatted with her new friend for a few minutes longer, dodging times when she tried to get her to call her only by her first name, before leaving her to her lunch, letting her know she'd be by later to collect the dishware. Jenny had never met someone who simply prompted a friendship, especially with someone of her station. While it was clear that Marion was of working class and hadn't had a high upbringing, there was something about her that radiated grace. She'd met plenty of people and had had plenty of employers; there were plenty of haughty people that made you feel downright disregarded. The girl was none of those things; she had a kind soul.

Finishing her lunch, Marion went back to work until it was almost dusk. She'd promised Mr. Cartwright she'd continue to help close shop and the headmaster had agreed so she wouldn't have to walk back in the dark. She closed the library door and exited the school, ignoring the disappointment she felt at not catching sight of one Mr. John Smith.

Arriving at _Lucy's Books Shoppe_ just as the last customers were leaving, she went around the store, putting books back in their proper place before retiring.

For the first time in three weeks, Marion had a dreamless sleep.

* * *

John Smith, unfortunately, wasn't so lucky.

Since he'd arrived at Farringham School for Boys, he'd had the most peculiar of dreams. Most of the time they were all a jumble of images and he could never sort them out once he joined the waking world. A blue box. A war. Aliens. _He was an alien_. Something burning, people dying, worlds ceasing to exist, places that never existed, screams, and, worse, silence.

It was the same thing night after night. The only time he escaped the nightmares was the day he met Marion Jones. That night, he dreamt of the blue box, but, instead of interior white walls or a cathedral-like theme, the inside the small blue box that was bigger on the inside was lavished with coral and it radiated warmth. That could also do with the body that was lying next to him…

_He felt a trickle in his mind and, before the source could make any noise, he carefully extracted himself from the warm human lying next to him. She mumbled incoherently; he shushed her with a kiss on her forehead. When she settled down he entered the room attached to theirs, going to the crib at the corner where burbling noises were beginning to be made. He picked up the boy, rocking him back and forth in his arms gently. "Shh, no need for that. We need to let mommy sleep; you've been rowdy all week. Even though mum and dad are still in their prime and have oodles of energy, you are in another league." His smile turned into a frown. "Never saying 'oodles' again." He was quick to smile again when he heard a giggle from the wonderful creature in his arms; the tiny hand extended to touch his dad's nose._

"_Oh, you think that's funny do you? English is a wonderful language and has many wonderful words that roll off the tongue. For example, your mum's name is Rose Tyler." Another giggle erupted. "You like that better, huh? Rose Tyler, Rrrooose." He continued to grin as his child continued to giggle, but soon settled down. He was here to make him go back to sleep, not encourage him to stay awake. He knew from experience if he didn't sleep soon, they'd have one grouchy baby in the morning. "Take after your mother in that department, you do." Settling himself on the rocking chair, he began to let his gob take over, telling his son about the first time he met his brilliant mum. The tiny bundle looked up at him wide eyed for the first few minutes; when he got to his speech about the Nestene Consciousness, the eyes were drooping, a yawn let out when talking about Mickey-the- Idio- err, Not-So-Smart-One, "But he proves himself later on, your Uncle Mickey does," and finally he was out like a light when he told him about using the 'travels in time' line. "No one could resist that," he gloated, putting his son back into his crib._

"_Oh really?" came a soft voice from behind him, arms wrapping around him loosely._

"_Really."_

_His wife nuzzled his back. "Had nothing to do with the bloke who came back to ask me a second time," she teased._

_His hearts fluttered; he knew she'd been attracted to him before, but hearing her say it never ceased to amaze him. He turned around and quickly descended down to meet his lips with hers._

He'd woken up and immediately picked up his journal, sketching the interior of the box as best he could remember. Minutes later and he'd been satisfied with the drawing and began to draw the baby, but he was certain it looked nothing like the child in his dreams; it looked like a general baby. He'd shaken his head and turned the page to draw the woman who had been with him, but as hard as he tried, her face eluded him as well. Her accent was unlike any he'd heard before and her lips…they'd felt as plump as Miss Jones' looked… He'd blushed; shaking his head as he finally got up to get ready for the day.

Tonight, however, instead of pleasant dreams with a faceless woman who must be his – the Doctor's, wife they had a child, he dreamt of a world dying, of whole species being eradicated. He tossed and turned in bed all night, finally escaping its clutches when he woke up, covered in sweat.

It'd been a week since he'd first met Marion Jones and even though she was now working at the school, he'd yet to run into her. Every time he went to the library, she was always somewhere else, collecting books from another schoolteacher. He'd peeked into the library the first time and had been amazed at the transformation. It finally looked like a library. There were still a few books scattered about, just waiting to be put in their proper place, but it was improvement from the first time he'd seen it when he first arrived. Still, it had been empty of one blonde woman he longed to see. Maybe today things would change.

The hope was dim, however, and he woke up a tad bit grouchy. He got ready for the day before hurrying out of his room, bumping right into…

* * *

_*Urg* So sorry it's taken me so long! I've had this completed for over two weeks! Last month was just hectic and then I _really_ didn't like the way it turned out so I was tweaking it as I typed (which actually didn't take as long as the actual _getting around to type it_)._

_I really had no intention of actually rewriting HN/FoB past using it as a reason why the Doctor and Rose would leave their baby at a daycare facility, but I thought they could use some downtime before their life is turned completely upside down and the angst really starts…_

_Hope you enjoyed!_

_~*Eli_


	3. Only Human

**Broken Promises**

_By: SilverLunarStar_

_**Chapter Three: Only Human**_

* * *

The hope of seeing Miss Jones was dim, however, and he woke up a tad bit grouchy. He got ready for the day before hurrying out of his room, bumping right into young Timothy Latimer. "You need to watch where you're going boy," he said, somewhat sarcastically, before continuing onto his classroom, the poor frightened boy dashing away.

His foul mood did not lift as the day went on and his other students got the brunt of it as well. Three were serving detention and one class received extra work. He thought most of them deserved punishment right in the class, but held himself back. By the end of the day, he was still rather irritated, but tried to calm down. However, during class, Mr. Latimer was not trying hard enough and he knew it. He raised his voice and scolded at him scathingly, ignoring the snickers in the room.

Timothy flushed as he stood in front of his desk for the remainder of the time.

John observed the boy and felt a pang of guilt at the boy's embarrassment. He'd been in his place once and, knowing he was partly to blame, tried to apologize after class was dismissed. However, before he could call him out, the boy dashed off. Heaving a weighed sigh, he scrubbed his face with a hand, his shoulders slumped, and he headed to his rooms. Unable to help it, he glanced at the door of the library, opened just a crack, but decidedly moved past it, determined not to peek in, lest he be disappointed once again.

* * *

Tim, for his part, had run into the library, sniffling. The young boy startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder and a handkerchief presented to her. He shook her head, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes so his tears wouldn't fall. "I'm sorry, Miss. I forgot that the library was now in use…"

"Not yet; it's just me in here. Would you like to talk about it?" Marion asked the crying schoolboy.

"No Miss! I'm mean…" He flinched at the high pitch his voice took; he sighed. Looking up, he saw the new librarian's kind look and he couldn't help but explain what had happened. "It's not just Mr. Smith, it's just everything piling up and…" He shrugged feebly, suddenly feeling as weak as his schoolmates told him he was. He was highly embarrassed he'd just spilled everything to a woman he didn't even know, but there was something about her that garnered trust, a song that lulled those in need.

Marion looked affronted. Sure she'd only met John Smith for a short while a few days ago, but she'd thought him a good man, strict but fair. 'Of course, he's such a man,' her mind sneered. She detested teachers, any adult really, who bullied children. Maybe she was a bit ahead of her time, but Marion was of the belief that everyone should be treated equally, even children. Of course there were times when they needed to be disciplined; she didn't think she'd have turned out so well had her mother not done so, but that didn't mean they had to be belittled. It saddened her a bit that the kind man she'd briefly met turned out to be so callous. "I'd like to give Mr. Smith a piece of my mind!" She was outraged and wasn't even thinking that causing a scene could cost her, her job.

Thankfully, Timothy was thinking much clearer than she. "Please don't Miss! He's never been so cruel; perhaps he was just in a foul mood? He is right though, I wasn't trying hard enough." In the few weeks he'd been here, he'd never one raised his voice or been cruel. Everyone had an off day. He truly hoped the new librarian wouldn't tell the schoolteacher anything; he'd be utterly mortified! Crying to the new, young librarian and telling her of his difficulties in this school.

The blonde hesitated, but agreed she wouldn't confront the man. "That's still no reason to punish you over. It's not your fault he was having an off day." After making sure he was truly okay, she sent him on his way.

On her way out of the school, she caught sight on the brunette man talking with the school's nurse. Something brewed within her and she huffed at herself, hurrying down the stairs and out of sight.

* * *

Later in the week, Marion carried a large tome, determined to bring it up the few steps and to the top shelf of the bookcase. She made it up the steps, but it was a struggle to lift her arm high enough to shove the book to its proper place. Getting the bottom corners set, she pushed, but it wouldn't budge and one of the corners slipped off the shelf. She squeaked and was just about to let the thickly bound manuscript fall to the floor when a large hand with thin, long fingers enveloped hers, giving the right amount of momentum necessary to put it in its place. Marion moved back a little and heard a sharp intake of breath as she grazed the front of someone. She turned her head just in time to see John Smith scrambling down. "Mr. Smith," she greeted, not knowing quite what to say. She was still miffed about what Timothy had told her even though the girl had already dismissed the incident.

"Good afternoon Miss Jones." He felt his face grow warm. He'd finally given in and approached the library. When he saw her struggling with the book, he couldn't help himself and entered in order to assist her. He'd not thought it through, simply climbing up the steps to steady the book, before pushing it firmly in place. In doing so, he'd come off as a lecherous old man. 'I'm not that much older than her, I think.' He frowned, though he didn't deny the lecherous part. There was something that drew him to Miss Jones. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since he'd met her earlier in the week; he'd even become a bit grouchy when he hadn't caught sight of her. John Smith had always been a logical man; he didn't believe in fate, but there was _something_ there. Just how coincidental was it that she'd come to Farringham when he'd just started teaching at the school?

When he first arrived, he'd been attracted to Matron Redfern, but it had been something subtle, more admiration than attraction. He'd never been…smooth when it came to talking to women, but he turned into an outright bumbling fool towards the mature woman. Marion was something else entirely… The first time he touched it, it felt as if an electrical current had coursed through him. While still feeling nervous around her, there was something that made him feel at ease in her presence. 'Oh, what an oxymoron!' he thought, rolling his eyes internally. He'd blown it off as a one-time thing, but he felt it again when he'd touched her hand to prevent the book from dropping to the ground.

"Thank you," she finally said, her voice somewhat dismissive as she tried to calm her racing heart.

"You're welcome. How could I not? A fair damsel in distress-"

She raised a brow. "Someone's been reading too many fairy tales."

He spluttered. "I have not!"

"I'm told you have most of the books from here even though you've only been here a fortnight."

"I assure you, there are no fairy tales in my room. I don't even think there were ever any fairy tales in here," he remarked distractedly. 'Well, except perhaps my journal and that _certainly_ will never make its way in here.' "Would you like me to start bringing the books in?"

"Not just yet, thank you. I'd like to put these away before I get started on any others." She couldn't imagine how many books he had in his residence.

"Well," he hesitated before jumping right in. "Would you like some help? I've just finished teaching…"

"No thank you. I'm sure you have other things to do."

"No I…" Watching her as she went to a desk holding a few, thinner, books, he noticed her annoyance. "Miss Jones, have I done something to offend you?"

"No, of course not. I just don't think I require help of someone who has nothing better to do than scold at poor, unsuspecting boys."

He flinched. "You saw-"

"No, I did not. I'm sure if I had, I would have been kicked out for you can rest assure that I would have had a thing or two to say to you in that instance."

"And you don't now?" He was slightly amused, but didn't want to show it because she really did look incensed.

She finally whirled around to face him. "Actually, yes. I can't believe that a man of your upbringing would punish young boys over something so trivial. You must have not been looking where you were going yourself or else the two of you would have never collided and then having the audacity of making him stand for over an hour just because _he wasn't trying hard enough_." She glared.

He waited until she calmed herself down. "I assure you Miss Jones I feel terrible for what I did. I was in a bit of a foul mood and took it out on the rest of the world," he admitted. "I was terrible to my students and apologized to them generally; I just haven't been able to catch Mr. Latimer. He truly seems to be going out of his way to avoid me when he's not in class," he said sheepishly.

Marion looked at him suspiciously, but he really did look remorseful that she let up. "Well," she huffed, "as long as you apologize." The she paused, looking around the room. She'd made great improvement in the library, but it was still a ways away from being used by the students. "Jenny will be up with tea soon and Mr. Latimer will be by soon; he comes to help when he's done with his work. If you'd like…" she trailed off, now embarrassed to ask after she'd gone on a tirade.

"I'd be more than happy to help." With that set, the two got to work.

Just before their tea arrived, Timothy came in. He startled as he saw Mr. Smith helping Miss Jones, but before he could sneak away, the librarian saw him.

She cleared he throat and John whirled around. "Mr. Latimer, I've been trying to have a word with you for the past few days."

"Mr. Smith?" He fidgeted. Surely he was not about to scold him in front of the young woman. What was he doing in here anyway? Miss Jones had looked absolutely furious when he told her what happened. He didn't think she'd talk to the man. Soon, however, he heard an apology and was absolutely mortified; he wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Miss Jones _had_, apparently, given him a piece of her mind.

"I swear it won't happen again," the schoolteacher assured.

Timothy stuttered an acceptance and told Miss Jones he had come to let her know he had a lot of work to do so he wouldn't be able to help, before dashing off.

John turned to the blonde and smiled when he saw her looking at him approvingly.

Jenny soon arrived with tea and, since Tim usually joined Marion, there was an extra cup. The maid excused herself, shooting the blonde a grin.

They were silent for a few minutes as John took it upon himself to serve their tea. After nibbling on a scone, he asked, "So what brought you to Farringham?"

Marion shrugged. "It's just a bit of a recess, really. I've been traveling for the past fourteen months. Whenever I run out of funds, I find a place to work until I've saved up enough until I can travel comfortably again."

"On your own?" He was surprised. Not many women her age were unattached or took it upon themselves to travel without a friend, at the very least.

"Pardon?" Her eyebrows drew together. What was he implying…?

"You've been traveling on your own?" he clarified innocuously.

"Ever since my mum and best friend died," she confirmed when she realized he'd meant no harm.

"I'm sorry," he said with such sincere sympathy.

She shrugged. "Thank you. It was a while ago."

"My parents died when I was sixteen," he offered, after a few minutes of silence.

"It must have been hard." She couldn't imagine losing her mum at such a young age.

"It was. I was still in school, of course. It got better with time."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No, only child. And you?"

"Same. It was just my mum and I growing up. My dad died when I was a baby. My friend, Michael was sort of like an older brother, I guess. Annoying me when we were younger, defending me whenever an older kid teased me…" Her eyes looked out into a world that no longer existed. She shook her head. "So what made you decide to teach? Did your history teacher inspire you?"

John laughed. "Something like that. My history teacher was a bore! Well, at least until I got to college; the professors were brilliant! I set out to be a history teacher to inspire students, but I'm afraid I've followed into my schoolteachers' footsteps." He frowned. "I couldn't get any of my students to listen if I dressed as a gypsy and told them their fortunes."

"I was never much for history," she admitted. "Too dreary. English was my forte, much more creative! 'Course, my English teacher didn't much appreciate my creativity," she stage whispered.

"Marion Jones," he drawled playfully. "I never would have pegged you as a trouble maker."

"Whatever would make you believe that?" She was the picture of innocence.

He looked at her as he'd look at one of his students caught breaking the rules, but then his eyes crinkled and he saw her lips twitch. She was surprised at how she fell into an effortless rhythm with this man. She'd always had a way about people, her mother told her. She was able to make friends everywhere she went, but there was something different about John Smith…

Similarly, John found himself amazed at how much he enjoyed Marion's company. He felt like a completely different man around her. He was usually very serious and he hardly thought it appropriate to natter about with a recently-made acquaintance. She was just so…he couldn't find the words, but there was something about Marion Jones that made her special, that much he knew.

Finishing their snacks, they drank the last of their tea, and got back to work, asking questions about one another here and there.

"Miss Jones! What are you still doing here? It is almost sundown!" The headmaster paused, seeing the other occupant in the room. "Mr. Smith." His tone bordered on disapproval.

Marion looked out the window. "Oh! I hadn't noticed the time," she said, embarrassed.

"Nor had I. My apologies Mar- Miss Jones."

"No, I should have been more careful. I better go. Thank you for your help Mr. Smith."

"Please, let me walk you back to Mr. Cartwright's. It wouldn't do for you to be out on your own after dark."

She bit back an unkind retort, knowing he was just being a gentleman.

"That would be a good idea, Miss Jones. I have no doubt Mr. Cartwright would not appreciate it if I let you leave unescorted after hours."

She knew her new employer was right so she simply nodded. "Thank you." She looked at John.

"Good evening to you both. I shall see you in the morning Miss Jones. Mr. Smith, don't forget you have morning duties tomorrow." He looked at the new schoolteacher pointedly.

"Of course headmaster. Good evening."

Noticing Marion had finished settling things and had already put on her coat; he picked his up from a nearby chair. He offered his arm and suppressed a smile when she linked hers with it. Nothing but the nighttime noise permeated the air as they walked in companionable silence. One would think things would feel slightly awkward after a whole afternoon of chatting away, but for two people who have known each other no more than a day, there was something about the other that set them at ease.

"Thank you for walking me back."

"My pleasure," he repeated his earlier statement and she smiled. "Good evening Miss Jones."

"Good evening Mr. Smith." With a last smile, Marion entered the shop, climbed up the stairs to her room, and made her way to the window that looked out to the front of the shop. She quickly drew back when she noticed he was still standing outside. She scolded at herself for being a coward and opened the window. "Mr. Smith!" she called out just in time as she saw his retreating back.

He whirled around and saw her halfway out her window. "Yes Miss Jones?" he raised his voice so she could hear him.

"Marion's just fine."

He could just make out her tongue peeking out between her lips and grinned as he understood her words. "And it's John, Marion." He saw her smile widen and she nodded before retreating back inside. He turned back, making his way back to the school with a spring in his step.

Closing her window, Marion sighed. What had she done? She'd promised herself once that she'd never get attached, but… She's only human. Taking one last glimpse at John Smith's retreating back, she got ready for bed.

* * *

_One more HN/FoB chapter, then I promise to get back on course._

_Thoughts?_

_~*Eli_


	4. Gains and Losses

**Broken Promises**

_By: SilverLunarStar_

_**Chapter Four: Gains and Losses**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Umm…high PG-13? No explicit stuff, I promise.

* * *

"Just give me a moment, Timothy; I know I left that book here somewhere," a somewhat distracted John said as he searched through the piles of tomes lying around haphazardly.

"I don't think Miss Jones was expecting me back anytime soon," the boy answered lightheartedly. It was strange, he thought; he'd never gotten so well with a teacher or anyone else, for that matter, before. Now he had two adult confidants. He suspected Mr. Smith would never have stood up for him the way he had, had Miss Jones not been here, but she was and that's all that mattered. When Timothy wasn't helping Miss Jones in the library, talking about his family or what he wanted to do in the future, he was helping Mr. Smith grade papers and having conversations about every subject they could think of. While still a shy boy, Timothy had grown a bit more confident and ignored the teasing with more ease. He frowned as he thought he heard something, but the history teacher was still scouring through a pile in silence.

John fought down a blush when he heard what his student said. (Really, he'd blushed more often in the past few weeks than in his last thirty-four years.) He had no doubt Marion knew by now that he wasn't the most…organized person around.

As he waited for his teacher to find the book, Timothy looked around the room. It seemed as if most of the place had bound paper on every available surface; he was quite sure a second library could easily be made here. Timothy smiled in amusement as he thought that his history teacher and the librarian were simply made for each other. Suddenly, something glistening caught his eye. He approached the fireplace and extended a hand as the whisper he'd been hearing in the back of his mind grew louder. He touched the golden fob watch and stared at it oddly, not only because he could hear a voice whispering from within (he was sure it was coming from the watch, though he couldn't fathom how that was possible), but also because he found it peculiar that Mr. Smith would have such a feminine watch. It looked old, so it could be a family antique, maybe his grandmother's, but the well-polished look made it seem new. Even the strange etchings didn't have the faded look they should… Timothy dropped it and backed away, his eyes wide as he heard '_My Doctor, protected from the false god,'_ whispered clearly into his mind.

"Here we are!" exclaimed an oblivious John. He'd finally found the last book that belonged in the library. He and Marion had brought in most of the books he'd borrowed from the school back into the library a couple of weeks ago, but he was sure they weren't all of them. He was proved right when he kept finding a random book here and there. Usually John would take them to the library himself (a pathetic, but legitimate, excuse), but he was swamped with students' papers and really couldn't waste another minute, much as he'd love to. Turning to Timothy, he noticed the boy's already pale complexion turn slightly grey. "Tim? Mr. Latimer."

His head snapped towards Mr. Smith.

"Are you alright, Timothy?" he asked, concerned. He didn't look well; perhaps he should have him sit down while he called for Matron Redfern…

"Y-yes sir, quite alright."

John looked at him suspiciously, but the boy was old enough to know if he needed to seek help when his health declined. "Alright, but I'm sure a spot of tea will do you some good. Seems to be about the time Mar- Miss Jones would have hers." He walked the fireplace and picked up the fob watch to check the time, but something distracted him. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind if…you joined her." He shook his head, placing it back where it was. "Please tell her if she's still here past dark to come find me so I can walk her home." John knew if he didn't at least send word, the stubborn woman would go off alone. She'd done it once before and he'd been worried all night until he saw her the next day. Upset that she hadn't told him he had confronted her and her temper had reared, but Marion had calmed down once she realized he wasn't trying to control her; he'd simply been worried. From then on John made sure she knew he was always available to take her home.

"Of course sir." He took the books he'd come for and did everything in his power not to run off. Just as he exited the room, Timothy could swear he heard a wolf howling in sync with the flash of golden light he saw in his head. When he arrived at the library, he was grateful to see it empty. Miss Jones had most likely gone with Jenny to help her with tea; the headmaster was not going to be happy if he heard about it (granted, he'd only heard about the first time and the librarian had since then been a lot more discreet).

Timothy placed the books on a table, checked them off Miss Jones' list, and got to putting them in their rightful places. Once he was done, he started organizing the piles of papers Miss Jones had scattered on the desk. They weren't that many, but…Timothy stared at the object he found underneath the paperwork. That…was quite the coincidence. However, he quickly changed his mind once he heard whispering. He'd always heard them in the library, but had been able to ignore them, thinking them to be the same whispers he always heard when he was around people; he'd thought they were simply stray thoughts. However, this voice was quite distinctive, just like the voice from the other fob watch had been. This one, which he assumed belonged to Miss Jones, belonged to a male and definitely looked old.

_'My pink and yellow Rose_,' it whispered as he picked it up from underneath the desk, '_must keep her safe at all costs. We have to hide; they can't find us. If they find us…'_ Horrible images surged through his mind and Timothy saw what would happen to those who dared harm the Oncoming Storm's golden goddess.

"Hello Timothy! You're just in time for tea!" Marion announced cheerfully when she noticed the boy once she'd entered the library.

Startled, he dropped the watch onto the desk.

"Oh!" Marion had been putting the tray of tea down when she heard something clatter. She turned and her eyes widened she checked her apron pocket, but felt nothing there. "I can't believe I didn't notice it missing."

"I-it was under the desk, Miss. It must have fallen while you were going over the records." Timothy observed the librarian carefully as she grabbed the watch.

She looked at the watch in reverence, but then her eyes glazed over and she absentmindedly put it back into her pocket. "Come now, Timothy. We could do with a rest; let's have some tea."

"Yes Miss." Whoever Marion Jones and John Smith were, they were definitely not of this world. The presence in the woman's watch felt ominous and dark, but warmth was in its voice as he spoke of keeping Rose safe; Rose, who looked a lot like Miss Jones, had to be kept safe no matter what. The same applied for the voice who had spoken of protecting the Doctor; it would do everything in its power to protect him from harm. Whatever was following the two, he hoped it never reached Farringham.

* * *

John Smith and Marion Jones were taking a walk in town this brisk afternoon. The cold had settled in about a week back and it wasn't as warm as it had been when John first arrived two and a half months ago. He was entertaining Marion with a tale of his troublesome students trying to pull one over him this morning, basking in her smile as she turned to face him. Suddenly, something caught his eye and he saw it. The woman pushing her baby in the pram, the piano a few men were lifting, and what would happen if someone didn't stop it. It ran across his mind in a millisecond; John acted before he could fully comprehend what was going on.

Marion whirled around, following his line of vision as his voice trailed off. She gasped and her leg muscles tensed, ready to sprint forward to help, when a cricket ball shot off just as the rope that was being used to lift the piano ripped. The ball hit a set of pipes and they landed on a plank of wood that then sent a brick soaring into a container, and impeding the woman's path. The piano crashed down and the woman screamed, but she and her infant were safe. Sparing John an incredulous glance, Marion dashed off to comfort the woman who was close to hysterics.

John watched as she calmed the mother down and made sure neither of the workers blamed one another. It was an accident and, thankfully, no one had been harmed. "Marion Jones," he breathed when she was finally by his side again, admiration tinting his voice. "You are brilliant."

Red colored her cheeks. "Me? I wasn't the one who stopped this from being a complete tragedy. That, what you did, that was _fantastic_." She smiled a toothy smile at him, the tip of her tongue unconsciously slipping between them.

"Yes, but the entire episode could have become utter chaos had you not intervened." His own teeth glistened between his lips. As they continued their walk John, quite suddenly, whirled around to face her. Clearing his throat, he stated, "Marion, the time we've spent these past few weeks have been the best of my life. While you may not have anyone to stand before you now, you are your own woman and can make your own decisions and so I implore, will you allow me to court you?"

"I thought you already were?" Marion teased, hiding her surprise and pleasure. She momentarily felt a smidgen of guilt as he faltered. Any time they weren't working, they were usually together. Even as she worked, he would come and help her. It seemed like a courtship at the time, though she'd never been on the receiving end herself and he hadn't said anything until now. She'd only hoped…

He nodded, gathering his courage. "Yes, but I want to make it official so there will be no misconstructions. I want to go about this accordingly. I want to marry you, Marion-"

There was no hiding her surprise this time as she let out a small gasp, her eyes widening.

"But first, I should like to take you to the village's dance," he finished, looking at her in eager hope.

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Yes, you'll allow me to court you properly or yes, you'd like to go to the dance?" He really didn't want any confusion.

"Both!" Marion exclaimed, startling him by closing the space between them and embracing him.

They'd never so much as held hands before this, merely small brushes of said appendages; John offering her his arm when they went on walks together was the closest they'd ever been. This was something new and it was wonderful. His breath hitched as Marion looked up at him and he finally gave into an urge he'd had since he met her.

"I've never…" she whispered when their lips were mere centimeters away.

"Neither have I," he said just as quietly and he felt it when his small revelation made her relax. He was surprised once again when she took it upon herself to close the remaining gap.

It was a chaste joining, but there was nothing simple about it. This kiss held a promise, a promise of more to come, a promise of forever.

* * *

Marion smiled at her reflection, wishing her mother were here to see her daughter all grown up and being courted. She wondered if Jackie and John would have gotten along; Marion doubted it. Well, maybe at first. She was positive Jacqueline Jones would've eventually come to love him like a son. 'Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you, Marion?' As soon as that bit of doubt entered her mind, John's words from earlier echoed through; _I want to go about this accordingly. I want to marry you, Marion_. Could he really mean it? Before she could think about it further, there was a knock on the door. Glancing at the looking-glass one last time, she went to open the door.

John fiddled with his bowtie nervously, waiting for Marion to answer, and when the door opened his jaw dropped. She was a vision. Her dress was a modest, pale rose-colored confection that flowed over her figure beautifully. "You look stunning."

Her cheeks colored, but her tongue slipped out between her lips, pleased with the compliment. "Thank you." She looked him over and gave him a dazzling smile. "You look very handsome." Marion's hands automatically went to fix the bowtie he'd left askew. Once done, she took his proffered arm, allowing John to lead her down the stairs and out the front door, to the village dance.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked once they'd arrived and found a small table to sit at.

"Please." Marion gave him a dazzling smile and she felt her insides contract as John returned it with a smile of his own. Never had she felt like this. No boy, no man, had ever made her feel so _special_, like the universe could end and he wouldn't notice because all his attention was on her. Even with this wonderful man, Marion continued to have dreams about her strange, alien man. Watching as John weaved through the crowd to get back to her, she shoved her thoughts away and concentrated on the real world.

As Marion sipped her drink, she looked at the empty dance floor. The small band was playing, but everyone in attendance was scattered around, conversing with one another. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John shifting in his seat. Just as the band was ending a song, Marion put her cup down on the table and stood up. "May I have this dance, Mr. Smith?" she asked, extending her hand, and did her best to hold in a nervous smile as she saw his eyes widen in surprise. Whispers broke out all around them, but her unease was put to rest when John smiled and took her hand.

"It'd be an honor, Miss Jones." John had been nervous about asking Marion to the dance, not only because he was afraid she'd say no, but because he wasn't quite sure whether he knew how to dance. However, his fears were laid to rest as soon as he had Marion in his arms. Suddenly, John didn't care that he fumbled with his feet until they finally found the proper rhythm or that he accidentally turned her the wrong way, twisting her arm slightly. The only thing that mattered was that she was smiling and laughing with him, her giggles filling his heart with such joy that he would swear he needed a second one to hold it all in. Her honey eyes connected with his darker brown and he was lost.

After a while, more couples joined them on the dance floor, but they were oblivious to everything except each other.

* * *

It'd been almost three months since Marion and John arrived at Farringham separately, but now no one could imagine them apart. Everyone in town was sure they'd be in for a treat the following spring.

It was now Christmas break and the only ones who remained at the school was one John Smith and a few of the maids. Even the headmaster had decided to visit his family in London. On Christmas Eve John invited Marion to the school and they had a delicious, if slightly burnt, dinner.

"This is lovely, John. Thank you," Marion smiled widely at him. She had sometimes joined other families for Christmas dinner in her travels, but this was the first time she actually felt at home once more. She could definitely get used to this.

"I'm just sorry for the turkey. I remember watching my mother cook every Christmas, but…" He was caught between bashfulness and sorrow.

Marion placed her hand over his, caressing it; John didn't talk about his family much. She felt he trusted her that little bit more when he did though.

After dinner, they moved to John's rooms, settling on the settee, her back to his front, as John finished reading _A Christmas Carol_ to her. Marion had read it several times, but hearing John reading gave her a tingling sensation as his voice washed over her.

While John's voice held a steady confidence, he was a mess inside. The ring he'd bought a few weeks ago burned a hole in his pocket. He was sure he wouldn't be turned down, but he wanted to do this right. When Marion shifted suddenly, he realized he'd stopped reading. They'd reached the end and he hadn't even noticed.

"John?" her soft voice whispered.

He turned and found himself staring straight into Marion's honey eyes. They held a question in them, but he could not think of an answer, his mind blissfully blank for once. Instead, he let instinct take over and he lowered his head to meet her lips, his tongue swiping at her already parted lips. Although it had taken both of them a while to initiate kisses, the passion between them was intense. Before today, they had been able to control themselves, societal norms dictating they have a proper courtship, but with no one hovering over them, tonight John and Marion felt it was time to let go.

Marion didn't know what got into her, but as soon as John's tongue met hers, propriety took a backseat. She turned to face him fully, one hand reaching to bury itself into his thick, brown hair, the other gripping his forearm, her legs straddling his thigh. After a few moments, she began to rock back and forth slowly.

John was careful not to scare her. While he might not have much experience (okay, none at all), he made sure to keep his movements gentle, his hands wandering only soothingly over her back as he leaned down the settee slowly, bringing Marion down with him. Soon enough he couldn't resist and his hands travelled to Marion's chest, his thumbs making circular motions over her dress. When she fidgeted over him he let out a triumphant sound that was stifled by her lips. Something hard dug into his hip and John broke away from her, looking at Marion in question.

She blinked in confusion until she felt the metal circumference of her father's watch. Marion removed it from her dress pocket and carefully placed it on a side table, taking no notice of another fob watch similar to hers. Instead, she stood before John and reached back to unbutton her dress. She was stopped shortly by his hands and doubt took over for a second before he requested, "Please, let me."

John got up and turned Marion around slowly. He carefully gathered her hair and swept it over her shoulder, one hand slid down to her waist and the other continuing to undo the buttons of her dress. Once he reached the end, he felt Marion pull the sleeves off but held on to the front of the dress as she turned around, her cheeks rosy-red. He resisted the urge to kiss her and waited with bated breath for her to make the next move; he would not push her.

Marion took a deep breath and shoved her nerves aside. No one had ever seen her without clothing and here she was, ready to bare herself to a man she'd only known a few months. It defied logic, the way she instinctively trusted him. After what felt like hours, but was really only a couple of minutes, she brought her hands to her sides, let the top of her dress fall, sliding it off completely and letting it pool around her on the floor.

Gulping, John couldn't help but let his eyes travel down Marion's figure. Dressed now in nothing but her slip and stockings, she was every bit as breathtaking as when he first met her. He watched as she bit her lip nervously and stepped out of her dress towards him.

"May I?" Marion whispered as she played with the buttons of his shirt. At his nod, she began to undo his buttons much faster than he'd done with hers. She waited as he shrugged out of it before bringing her hands up to dive into his hair and lower his lips to hers.

This time, John's fingers were anything but shy. While it might be his first time, he wasn't ignorant either. He'd heard plenty of tales from friends, coworkers, even his schoolmates from so long ago. He'd also… He'd also picked up a book or two on the subject (and not the generic insert slot A into slot B type of books either). This, here and now with Marion, was different. He wanted it to be perfect for her, but John worried he wouldn't…_last_ long enough for her to receive any pleasure tonight. Simply staring at her nude form on his bed had him on the edge.

Marion looked up at him nervously, wondering what he was thinking. Her face was completely flushed as she lay still under his scrutiny, but it was no casual observation. As his eyes roamed her body, she felt it like a caress and her nipples hardened as his gaze went back to her chest, her breath shortened. Her eyes then zeroed in as she watched John remove his trousers. The lighting was rather dim as the candles had gone down quite a bit while he'd read to her, so Marion didn't get a good look at him, but her pout was quickly removed as he came back to the bed to join her.

John lifted the sheets up and over them, and for a while he simply lay next to her, one hand buried in her hair as he kissed her slowly and gently, while the other caressed her side before his thumb grazed the underside of her breast. He stared into her lovely light brown eyes, finding nothing but adoration and trust. It humbled him that someone with as pure a soul as Marion would ever look at him like that. "I love you," he couldn't help but utter. He stunned himself and he could see the surprise in her eyes too, but it was the truth.

Marion's heart sped up when she heard those three, short words come from John's mouth. Seeing nothing but honesty shine from his wide, brown eyes, she became a bit teary.

For a second, John panicked as he noticed the tears, but a wide grin overtook his face, as he heard her whisper, "I love you," in return.

Just like that, Marion and John felt more at ease. They were still a bit nervous, of course, coming into uncharted territory as it were, but this time there was no holding back.

* * *

The Doctor and Rose looked at each other. Not even a minute later, they began giggling and their laughter only got louder. They'd woken up just minutes ago and had been a bit groggy, but as soon as they looked one another they realized their memories were back.

"Did we really-?"

"Did we just-?"

When their laughter died down, Rose rested her head on his chest and started tracing nonsensical patterns. "Are they gone?" she asked.

The Doctor held her close, dragging his fingers up and down her spine. "The TARDIS wouldn't have let the timers go off if they weren't."

"What if…?" She trailed off, unable to describe this inexplicable worry and fear she felt. It tightened around her heart. Rose had never even feared the Daleks or Cybermen this much.

The Doctor kissed the crown of her head. "I promise they're gone, but I'll check tomorrow." Feeling her nod her head, he tightened his grip on her, swearing to keep her safe at all costs.

* * *

Timothy Latimer set his things down on his bed and started unpacking so he could be ready for class the next day. The holidays were now over and it was time for the last half of the year to begin. As he started putting his smaller items into the nightstand, he noticed an envelope and at seeing the neat writing, he knew his favorite teacher, John Smith, and the school's librarian, Marion Jones were gone, back to the stars.

Gripping Miss Tyler's fob watch as he finished reading the letter (for even though it'd held the Doctor's essence, it was hers); Timothy was surprised when one last vision lingered. He put both the watch and letter at the bottom of his trunk as his roommates began to come in. Hearing a jibe about his size, the boy simply shook his head in amusement. He'd be okay even if his adult 'protectors' had 'eloped'.

The Doctor and Rose Tyler were back amongst the stars where they should be, but not without having changed one Timothy Latimer's life for the better.

* * *

With a lingering kiss, the Doctor let Rose head to their room, so she could get some rest. She'd complained of a headache after she'd written the letter to his star pupil. John Smith's top student, that was. Weren't they one and the same in the end, though? He'd still fallen for his pink and yellow girl. Not even the suppression of memories could remove their feelings for one another. The smile that had spread across his face was suddenly wiped off as he felt the echoing emptiness in his mind. He thought he'd already become accustomed to the silence in there, only briefly alleviated by the TARDIS and Rose.

The Doctor shook his head and dismissed it to the side effects of the Chameleon Arch. Now thinking about it, that might be the cause of Rose's headache. Finishing the flight to the Vortex so the Old Girl could recuperate from her three month hibernation, he headed down the corridor to check up on Rose.

The TARDIS hummed in sorrow. She had hoped that, with the memories she let slip from the fob watches that she'd be able to change the events from the strongest timeline she'd seen/would see/might see, but it was not to be. Her poor Thief and Wolf were bound to this path that split into so many endings, only one had a relatively happy one, and there was nothing more she could do to ensure they at least got an ounce of it.

Only time would tell their fate.

* * *

19 August 1984

Sixteen days came and went. It was now the twentieth day and there was no sign of little Ianto Smith's parents. Silvia from the desk refused to believe they abandoned him even if the evidence (paying upfront, phony telephone numbers, false names) pointed to the contrary. She'd seen the love they had for their son and the pain that shone in their eyes as they left… Maybe it had been guilt… No! She refused to believe that. Something must've happened to them on their trip. Whatever it was, there was no way of finding out because Marion and John Smith simply did not exist anywhere in the U.K. Silvia had put all her efforts into finding them, but a week later she gave up. Instead, she did her best to help Denise Jones adopt him legally. Her brother was a social worker and Silvia knew he trusted her judgment.

A few months later, Ianto Smith legally became Ianto Jones, son of Denise and William Jones, brother to Rhiannon. For the next twenty-four years of his life, Ianto would go through a normal childhood where he would grow up to become a simple archives worker for Torchwood One until it was destroyed in the Battle of Canary Wharf and he would almost lose his beloved fiancée. He'd then do his best to save her by moving back to Cardiff and work for Torchwood Three where he would try to save her. His efforts would be in vain as she was full-converted mentally. Eventually, he would fall for his boss, Jack Harkness, a man of many secrets. That was fine. He had secrets of his own, Lisa being the last in a long line.

_I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DELIVER THIS CHAPTER. Manni the Muse was being fickle. But now this is here! I'm working on the second chapter/epilogue to one other fic and on chapter 5 of Broken Promises. Ideas are flowing, but time is not being kind. I will try not to take HALF A YEAR, however._

_For the smutty version, go ahead and visit the Teaspoon version (www. whofic viewstory. php? sid= 46562& chapter= 4) or my livejournal (www. silverlunarstar. livejournal 90136. html). Don't forget to close the spaces. :)_

_Cheers!_

_~*Eli_


End file.
